The Hand Of Mask
by Numbers
Summary: The story of a Half-elf who is adopted by the Night Masks and the Clerics of Mask. His Beginning, life, and current campaign.
1. Chapter 0 : Birth of the Halfbreed

D:\Numbers0.html"There is...a machine. It evolved itself...and behold!--it   
  
knits..It knits us in and it knits us out. It has knitted time, space, pain,   
  
death, corruption, despair and all the illusions--and nothing matters. I'll   
  
admit however that to look at the remorseless process is sometimes amusing."   
  
Joseph Conrad  
  
The Hand of Mask  
  
Chapter 0 : The Birth of The Halfbreed  
  
She has hidden it for a year through magic using friends and her own prowness.   
  
A human concubine having a son to one of the elven lords. The lord would never   
  
stand for this. Mikael Darktome is a respected name amongst even the most   
  
powerful mages of the forest, and having a bastard son would only give the   
  
others reason to turn his rise to power around, and Aeris will never let that   
  
happen. She knows she doesnt have the means to hide the child and she doesn't   
  
have the heart to kill it. Her fast walk slows as she comes upon Darktome's   
  
study and she clutches the infant close to her. "He will help me, he has too   
  
strong of a heart to kill his own son, even if it cannot become the ruler of   
  
this land." She knocks twice as she takes in a deep breath and tries to relax   
  
as she hears his footsteps coming closer and prays that she is right. That   
  
Darktome will not slay her and the child the way some of the lords would. They   
  
had been together for many years now, and although it cannot be love, there is   
  
some affection that she feels with him and from him. The door opens and he   
  
stands there, still in his elven chain and black robes with jade green silken   
  
trim along the seams. Another meeting that had ended just minutes before her   
  
arrival, but it was the last of the day. He never has guests of business at   
  
this hour.  
  
"Aeris. What a pleasant surprise it is to see....." He then notices that she is   
  
not alone. He sees the child in her arms and immediately his mouth falls open   
  
in awe. "Please, come inside quickly. It appears you have some explaining to   
  
do." She steps through the door and he closes it behind her, his eyes never   
  
leaving the child in her arms. "How did this happen? I thought we had   
  
prevented such things from occuring here!" Not rage, not anger, just shock and   
  
fear in his voice, yet there is a hint of fondness in his eyes.  
  
"I do not know, my lord. I attended every ritual given by the priests and your   
  
own mages. Either we have been duped from within, or we have been given a   
  
miracle upon which we cannot act." She notices the look in his eyes, even   
  
through the horror and surprise. That much time have they shared together, and   
  
she knows she was right to come to him. "I know we cannot keep him, my lord,   
  
but we cannot slay this child. Even a life of persecution and lonliness as a   
  
halfbreed is better than no life at all." She watches the elven lord as he walks   
  
over and takes the child gently into his arms and stares into it's eyes.  
  
"I know, Aeris. I can see the magic in his eyes, he is definately of my blood.   
  
Lets just hope he gets your looks, the outside world is not very fond of elves   
  
as the humans spread. We will find somewhere for him, I promise you. And I   
  
will always keep track of where he is and his safety." The fear and shock were   
  
slowly replaced with wonderment as he watched the child. "He is so quiet for a   
  
child of his age. As if he already understands the imprtance of his being so.   
  
Oh how I wish we could abandon the old rules of my people. For centuries we   
  
have held strong to them, but the world is changing so much that we must learn   
  
to change with them. Let us hope that day of revelation comes for my peers   
  
within this childs lifetime." he wraps the child up softly and lays it on the   
  
bed.  
  
"So where can we send him, Mikael? Surely we cannot keep him close by, for fear   
  
that the others will find him and recognize his bloodline through his eyes."   
  
Aeris, now nearly in tears at how above and beyond her affectionate elf lord   
  
really is, looks at the elf pleadingly.  
  
"We will send the child to the realms of Amn. Maybe the port city of Murann.   
  
They have many types there, but hopefully he will be raised to be more than mere   
  
commonfolk. I will go now and deliver him... the hour is late enough that   
  
no-one should be about and I can slip him onto a doorstep un-noticed." Darktome   
  
gets his blade and his full cloak before reaching for his spellbook and   
  
components. "I will return soon, Aeris. Go back to your room and act as   
  
thought nothing happened, I promise we will not forget him, but we must act as   
  
though he doesn't exist." He kisses the human female and then mutters softly   
  
before the gate opens.  
  
"Be careful, my lord, and thank you for your compassion" Aeris watches as the   
  
elf lord steps through the gate before leaving the room quietly. 


	2. Chapter 1 : Initiate of the Masks

C:\Documents and Settings\Raven\Desktop\Numbers1.htmlThe Hand of Mask  
  
Chapter 1 : Initiate of the Masks  
  
If only Darktome would have had a clue as to what would happen after he dropped   
  
off the child that evening. He left the infant on the doorstep of a   
  
blacksmith's home in Murann and stepped back through the gate after checking   
  
that nobody else was around. But a cleric of Mask was just around the corner,   
  
and found the entire ordeal quite peculiar. An elf leaving a child on a   
  
doorstep. A powerful elf at that, this one will become something special, and   
  
it may even bring about the rise of the shadow god again. He scooped up the   
  
child and dissapeared into the shadows once again, taking passage ways and   
  
tunnels the city guard would give their left arm to know the routes of Deep   
  
into the under-city of Murann to the temple of Mask and the home of the Night   
  
Masks. Thieves, rogues, bandits, clerics, warriors, all united under the cloak   
  
of secrecy. He makes his way through the few groupings of the Night Masks and   
  
directly for the temple to see the high priest of the city, and to tell him his   
  
plan for this elf-blooded child.  
  
The temple of Mask began the child's training early, mixing his study of magic   
  
with those of the thieves of the Night Masks, and the child excelled at both, as   
  
if it were truly in his blood to know the magic arts. The child was given no   
  
name until age twelve......  
  
"Ok, young one, here is your setup. You are on the street, there is a small   
  
crowd bustling about." the thief motions for his cohorts to begin walking   
  
around, mulling about as if on the street and they begin walking back and forth.   
  
"Now, we have trained you long enough for you to know HOW to pick a pocket or   
  
cut a purse, lets see you in action against fellow thieves who value their   
  
treasure. If you fail, I warn you... The clerics may take it easy on you, but   
  
we are not as nice about failure" And he grinned. one of those toothy grins   
  
with the glint in his eye that he would enjoy causing the boy trouble and pain.   
  
He had always been looked down upon by these men. Brought into it all so young,   
  
boasted to be so great by the priests of Mask, given special training through   
  
the church, and these fellows forced to teach him the ways of a rogue.   
  
'They want to put me in my place' he thinks to himself. 'I cannot fail or I   
  
will never live it down.... now the smart thing to do in this situation....'   
  
the boy studies the crowd carefully, checking each person as they walk around,   
  
seeing what they are each carrying.  
  
"Well go on, boy! We don't have all day to wait for you to take a small purse!"   
  
the thug pushes the boy into the crowd, immediately bumping him into three of   
  
the thieves. The boy clambers to his feet after one of them trips him.   
  
'you will pay for that one day' he thinks to himself as he stands, brushing   
  
himself off as they move around him, unaware that he has inventories everything   
  
they have, and already taken much from the first two. The third escaped the   
  
robbing only by luck. He steps forward slowly, acting to be looking for   
  
something on the ground as he deftly and seamlessly takes his pick and choose   
  
from each of the passers by. Within a minute he walks back to the man who   
  
initially sent him in, taking one last thing as he hands the man a small pouch   
  
of items.  
  
"Not bad, boy, but you didn't take the real treasure!" the big grin again.   
  
"Lars, here has on 3 rings of gold and platinum, and look at Vincent with the   
  
big heavy pouch of gold there! I'm sorry to say this is not very pleasing to   
  
me. I do believe it is our turn to have some fun!"  
  
"You measure wealth in an odd way, friend." a large man steps out of the   
  
shadows. He is known to all, he is the guild leader Ankhar from Calimport. His   
  
dark skin and hair, along with his size make him unmistakeable amongst the   
  
others. "The boy just took the second most powerful magic item from each of   
  
your thieves. You can keep the gold rings, I'll take the magic if you dont want   
  
it. Not to mention the boy was smart not to take the most powerful thing the   
  
person has, or the most expensive. They will be watching that."  
  
"Bah, this wasnt a test of the boy's magic abilities, we all know he can outdo   
  
us in that. he gets too much attention around here and it is undeserved. I   
  
could have taken nearly everything from these men and they wouldnt have even   
  
noticed a touch" the braggart thief says haughtily as he looks up at the large   
  
Ankhar.   
  
"Dont speak so quickly, oh master thief Gerard." Ankhar says with a light   
  
chuckle, mocking the small man. "the boy got you on the transfer as well. He   
  
knows the game and he knows how to make the numbers work in his favor. he may   
  
not come away with the biggest prize, but he comes away with more than enough   
  
and has less risk than you do. You dont stay in this business by being too   
  
risky."  
  
The boy reaches his hand into his pocket and flips the ring back to Gerard that   
  
he swiped during the transfer. "Thank you for the lesson, Gerard. I have   
  
learned much from you and I am very sorry if you feel that I am a burden." 'yeah   
  
right' he thinks 'one day I will have this slime working for me. If he doesnt   
  
get caught before then.'  
  
Ankhar laughs and pats the boy on the head from so far above. "Numbers, yes I   
  
think that name will do well for you, boy. Tell the clerics not to call you   
  
child or boy anymore, you have a name, and it's one you earned. Now go on and   
  
learn more, I dont want anymore idiots working for me, bring me some skills I   
  
can put to good use."  
  
Numbers turns and begins walking back towards the temple smiling happily. 'I   
  
may not have earned any gold today, but I came away with something that means   
  
more than that to me. I am someone' Then he hears calling behind him.  
  
"Hey Numbers!" Gerard calls out. "I still dont like you, but you have proven   
  
yourself to not be TOTALLY useless." Numbers doesnt even turn to look, just   
  
keeps his steady pace towards the temple and the library he calls home. '  
  
Time to read up on these strange people.... monks, I believe is what I heard   
  
them called. What is their power source and how can I use it?'   
  
Such is the beginning of the new class of Mask followers, a new path, but it is   
  
not complete just yet. Many years lie between what happened then and what is   
  
happening now. Eighteen more years of learning and training, becoming stronger,   
  
becoming more than anyone expected before we really catch up to where Numbers   
  
finds himself today. 


End file.
